The Ashes of Heavens
by Ananke
Summary: An Andromeda/Hercules/Xena crossover. Commonwealth treatise, scheming war gods, and a warrior bard. Tyr/Trance pairing.
1. one

Disclaimer: GR: Andromeda and all related characters owned by Tribune Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended. Hercules: TLJ, Xena: WP and all related characters owned by Universal Studios, etc. No copyright infringement intended.  
---  
It seems that somewhere people are celebrating, although there are no houses or human beings, I can listen to guitars and other laughters which are not nearby; maybe far away, within the ashes of heavens...Andromeda, the Bear, or the Virgin.  
  
I wonder; is loneliness the same all over the worlds?  
(Odysseas Elytis)  
---  
And be on guard against the good and the just! They would fain crucify those who devise their own virtue -- they hate the lonesome ones.  
(Friedrich Nietzsche)  
---  
  
"It's a simple three day mission..."  
  
"I would prefer to go alone."   
  
"A diplomatic mission, Tyr. Talking, shaking hands, lots of shaking hands. You do not want to go alone." Pausing in her strides towards the Maru, Beka Valentine surveyed her Nietzschean companion.  
  
He considered. "I am fully capable of shaking hands. Ineffective manner of communications, yes, but one I can manage...for the sake of the...Commonwealth."  
  
"Gets less bitter every time you push it out, eh, Tyr?" Grinning, Captain Valentine thrust a handful of files into his hands, stepping back from the door of her little ship. "You just follow those instructions and let Purple do the hand-shaking and we should be fine."  
  
"Tell me." Stopping halfway through the hatch, he waved the pads, grimacing lightly. "Why you, Captain Valentine, are not leading this foray?"  
  
"I have a dinner date with a fellow Captain, my boy." She called as she retreated, smiling mischievously.  
  
"A dinner date? With the good Captain Hunt? Rebekah?"   
  
"Tyr. Tyr..." Scrambling around a corner, Trance Gemini claimed attention, and he stepped into the ragtag Maru, allowing the door to shut behind him. "I have our...what is it?"  
  
"Itinerary." He supplied, stepping gingerly through a mass of wires into the command area.  
  
"Yes, that." 'Purple' moved forward, smiling in almost painful delight at the help. He sighed inwardly, cocking a brow to indicate patient interest. "We have to report to Daragus IV to meet with the settlers, they have supplies we need and show a strong interest in signing up for the Commonwealth. The Daraguns are a Nietzschean offshoot race, untraditional..."  
  
"Nietzschean offshoot race?" He caught her arm, halting her rambling report.  
  
"Oh, they separated from the main culture years and years before the fall itself. At the time they were a very small party, no attention was really given to them, but now they're stronger and want to reintegrate into outer-space civilization..."  
  
"Gemini." He clapped a hand over her mouth, bending to seek her eyes out. "How untraditional?"  
  
"Well." She slid into the co-pilots seat, tail curling around to rest by his foot. "They choose a lot of the Nietzschean habits-bond pairing, for one-but they specifically condemn any official connection to the main culture. When Daragus was colonized-several decades before the Commonwealth fell-they were refugees, sort of, the outcasts of dominant Nietzschean prides. The maimed and dumb and..."  
  
"I understand, inferiors." He interrupted. "So they dislike contact with other, superior Nietzschean representatives. Why am I to lead this mission? They will not listen to anything I have to say...Captain Valentine!" Slamming a finger down on the intraship communication channel, he stared out into space.  
  
"Mr. Anasazi." It was Dylan Hunt's voice that broke through, smoothly unruffled. "We have Daragun assurances that you will be met and treated with the inarguable respect owed a Commonwealth representative. Trance will be insurance to that. Your duties will not, however, be wholly diplomatic, as the information Beka left with you will show. I can't tell you to expect a smooth road, but you are one of the best people for this. Trance is the other. Mission begun, Maru, and get going."  
  
"At times, I despise that man." Lifting the pads again, Anasazi stared with disgust at the closed com channel.  
  
"He beats you at basketball, that can be very, very bothersome." Nodding, the odd little purple creature leaned forward, hands pressing together in excitement. "I can tell you what the pads say, I managed to sneak a..."  
  
"You infiltrated classified mission records before they were cleared?"  
  
"I didn't see any harm." Her lips curled in defense. "Who was I going to tell, the droids?"  
  
"I see your point." Embarrassingly insufficient crew, embarrassingly fetal Commonwealth...embarrassingly laughable cause. He nodded. "Continue."  
  
"We're supposed to spy."  
  
Clearly, he thought, within her range of satisfying mission incentives.  
  
"See, the Daraguns say they want to enlist in the Commonwealth cause, but they...well, they don't like your people, their ancestors, very much at all. Dylan thinks they may be trying to get a grip on our munitions and tactical information to fund strikes against Nietzschean prides."  
  
"Of course." He glanced away from the console. "And as a good soldier of Commonwealth, Captain Hunt desires not only to refuse this terrorist cell entry into civilization, but also to root the entire sore out and, I presume, create peace."  
  
"He really is a nice man, Tyr, and with really, really nice intentions."  
  
"Of course." The second agreement was brief, unhumorous. "We will see if Daragun integrity is as timeless as his intentions."  
*  
"We are honored." Tyr Anasazi began his introductory comments smoothly, gazing down unwaveringly at the nervously twitching Daragun before him. "My wife and I are both honored with your welcome and interest in our cause."  
  
"Wi..." Trance's tail shot upwards from somewhere behind, slapping him lightly on the shoulder in pure surprise, even as her voice rose to a squeak.  
  
"Our accommodations are ready, I trust?" Grasping her hand in warning, he kept his tones even. "Trance is tired from the journey and we would benefit from privacy."  
  
"Of...course." The Daragun emissary glanced to and fro between them, clearly disquieted. "In purely diplomatic interest, I must ask...this creature is your bond-mate? We assumed that you followed the more traditional customs..."  
  
"Assumptions breed chaos. Chaos breeds..." Tones soft, Anasazi raised his head impartially. "Our accommodations?"  
*  
"*That* was not diplomacy, Tyr." Crossing her arms and tip-toeing to meet her companions gaze, Trance Gemini shook her head emphatically. "You're not supposed to threaten the emissary on the first meeting, and you're not supposed to claim fellow officers as mates on diplomatic missions, and..."  
  
"Gemini!" Barely keeping the frustrated outburst to a suitable roar, the older man grasped her arms and shook lightly. "It was he who assumed first, and an assumption needing monitoring, I might add. If they believed my adherence to tradition so strong, they were plotting ways to fragment my strengths within that tradition. I have thrown them off, and assured your complete access into the Nietzschean culture, however it remains here. As a mere alien interloper, you would have been given even less opportunity for research than I. As a bond-mate to a Nietzschean, you hold the rights and responsibilities within such a union."  
  
"You hurt my hand." Tones still faintly resentful, she stepped away, tail swinging in agitation. "And now they'll think you're a big wife bullier and I'll be expected to obey you and..."  
  
The girl would kill him, absolutely kill him. Gripping her upper arms firmly, her companion forced a pause in the pacing. "I overestimated my grip, unfortunately. It will heal. You will be expected to do nothing. Nietzschean women are known for their...rebellion. A bruise more or less would not dissuade them from their own interests. Your only subordination will be as junior mission crewman. I have...protected you. Captain Hunt clearly didn't consider such aspects. No doubt he was preoccupied with other matters, and other people."  
  
"That was..." Eyes widening, Trance smiled widely. "You're jealous, jealous over Beka...that's why you're in such a mean mood."  
  
"A Nietzschean mood, not exclusively a 'mean' mood. And I am *not* jealous." He added for posterity, bending to rummage through their combined ruck sack. "Merely tired of hurtling through space on an empty ship of time-frozen ideals commanded by a tireless optimist with no grasp whatsoever of the harsher realities of the present age..."  
  
"And Beka falls for that, huh?"  
  
"You." He jabbed a finger in her direction. "Are a silly, remarkably unhelpful little fool."  
  
"You married me." Sticking her tongue out, the alien ducked back through the hut door.  
  
"Trance! Trance, where exactly is it you intend to go now?" Pushing outside as well, he watched her departure with forboding. "If you would wait and allow me to show you around..."  
  
"Oh, no, I'm fine. I can kick, remember? Besides, you said I had protection now..." Voice fading, she disappeared over the forested horizon.  
  
"Not from yourself." He muttered, turning back to unload the remaining supplies. 


	2. two

Trance Gemini felt very, very at home amongst the trees. She wasn't certain why, it was a very old habit...and in this day and time where she spent a great deal of time in space, blowing out missiles and nurturing poor, doomed Harper, she rarely got to be alone in any natural setting anymore. Seemed the liking would have dimmed, but no, she still had her agility amongst the trees. It might come in handy, she decided, hooking her tail around a sturdy lower branch and testing its stability before swinging up to crouch within the leafy shelter.  
  
Cocking her head, she wrapped lavender arms around the branch and bent over, peering to the roadway below. There, three people, just as her senses had thought. She recognized the first, the emissary, he looked very anxious. The next was a human, an ugly brute, with mean eyes and a meaner gut. And the third...she didn't know. Nietzschean? But why among the inferiors? He wore dark garments, black stained velvet and leather, and he held a sword at his side, one hand constantly threatening with it. Tyr would want to see this. Backing up quietly, Trance prepared to shimmy down another tree, well out of sight. Feet bouncing lightly on the forest floor as she landed, she gasped lightly, toes curling in fear as a hand closed over her shoulder. "Oh, no..."  
  
"You were spying on them?" Turning, Gemini looked at the intruder. The woman smiled, shaking her head and motioning for silence until they were well out on the road, away from the others. "Good, so am I. Those are disagreeable people, and I'd advise you to watch out."  
  
"Are we on the same side?" First question to ask in any situation. Either they told you the truth, or, well, got so mad they tried to kill you right then and there. Nails digging into her palms, Trance watched the other woman hopefully. She looked nice, and sounded nice. Blond, with little streaks of red tangling through the layered haircut. And her clothes...very pretty red velvet, a halter top and nice pants and boots, she looked very well managed. Not that well-managed meant anything these days. Shaking her head again with a small sigh, she waited for an answer.  
  
The other woman considered, fingers moving over the daggers she held at her waist. "That depends. The men you were watching...do you know them?"  
  
"Only the emissary. He met us. Tyr and I. You see, we're here for negotiations, on behalf of the Commonwealth." But then, maybe mentioning even that was a mistake. "You do like the Commonwealth, don't you?"  
  
The woman laughed, eyes crinkling slightly, making her age more evident. Not twenties, maybe forties. A very beautiful forties. "I'll just put it this way...I've seen my portion of empires fall. They rarely rise again. I admire the effort your Hercules is putting forth, but I have my doubts. He always was the idealist..."  
  
"You know Dylan?" Hercules...mentally, the alien recounted her old Earth history lessons. Mythology. The Trials of Herakles. Hmm. Maybe the description DID fit Dylan.  
  
"I knew...Dylan...before he was Dylan. We shared many...loves and interests. He's a good...man."  
  
"Would you like to talk to him?" Lowering her voice as they neared the temporary hut, Trance tapped her tail curiously, watching her companion, mind still running through the cryptic statements. "We brought the Maru, you could...well, borrow her, to take our first logs back to the Andromeda. We won't need it at all, and its really best this way, in case something goes wrong. Beka would kill us if we broke her ship, and Dylan wouldn't want to lose the logs too. You can see him, and come back for us."  
  
"You trust very easily." The woman watched with something akin to perplexed skepticism on her face, eyes narrowed.   
  
"You have a good soul. I see it. Besides, Dylan needs all the friends he can get these days. But, maybe I should have your name. Just in case you go wrong."  
  
"You're a dangerous creature under that innocence..."  
  
"Trance Gemini."  
  
"Gemini." The other nodded, offering her hand, fine silver armlets reflecting the sunlight. "Call me Gabrielle."  
  
"Gabrielle." Smiling, Trance vigorously shook the pale hand, turning to the brawny man striding out the door. "Tyr, look, this is Gabrielle."  
  
"I heard." His eyes moved over the stranger, measuring inch by inch. Gabrielle merely smiled, angling her head. "I also heard your offering of the Maru. As you said, Rebekah is very fond of her little ship. I am also senior representative of this mission. It would have been advisable to request my advice beforehand. Chain of command."  
  
"Or a food chain?" The third party stepped up, tones innocent and querying.  
  
"Hardly. None of us are entirely certain what Trance Gemini is, but it is simple to suppose that she would be unpalatable at the minimum." He met her gaze head on, bowing in mocking deference.  
  
"Oh, you have the ego of a god."  
  
"And you, the markings of a queen, old markings, vaguely reminiscent of those discussed in the Nietszchean old school."  
  
"I assure you, Tyr, I am no genetically mutilated human byproduct. I'm human...at the minimum."  
  
"Perhaps. Nonetheless, you wear the markings of a tribe, a very rare one, rumored dead or scattered to the stars in such chaos as to never be reunited in strength again. They called themselves Amazoni. And they were all women."  
  
"You don't say." Her eyes glittered. "Tell me, Tyr, do you superior Nietszcheans claim every glorified warrior tribe as one of your own? Does it injure you to discover the we...Amazoni...are not connected to your engineered morality at all? That we created our own?"  
  
"Not really." He smiled, baring perfect teeth. "The Amazoni were, after all, destroyed."  
  
"You two..." Trance glanced to and fro between her companions, startled by the emotionally wracked conversation. "Maybe..."  
  
"Do hush." Tyr dismissed her interruption with a handshake. The resounding communications chirping wasn't as easy. Sighing, he opened the mobile communicator. "This is Anasazi."  
  
"Tyr, how lovely to greet your eminence." The other end crackled with sarcasm. "This is Andromeda."  
  
"Rommie..." Trance moved forward, jostling the device from his hands. "You don't know how very nice it is to hear your voice, Rommie."  
  
"I can imagine."  
  
Gabrielle smiled knowingly at her opponent, crossing arms to wait out the rest of the exchange.   
  
"You two, this is Dylan." The warm, familiar, amused voice cut through. "I'm aware that you haven't had time to do any in depth work yet, but I thought we'd check in. If you have any questions..."  
  
"Actually." Gabrielle moved forward to within range of the sensors, shoulders squaring. "I do. I'd like permission to take the Maru and visit you aboard your ship.""  
  
The captain's voice came back, subdued. "And you are?"  
  
"Her name's Gabrielle. She's an Amazoni." Trance cut in helpfully. "And she's on our side."  
  
"Well, then." Gabrielle could very nearly place the tone of voice with the old, familiar head nod. "By all means. Andromeda is yours to visit, old friend."  
  
"Thank you, Hercules." Stepping back, Gabrielle offered a brighter smile to them all.   
  
"Hercules? Compare the good Captain Hunt with demented mythological lore?" Anasazi laughed curtly. "By all means, do. It suits." 


	3. three

"Eros, that slackener of limbs, twirls me again–bittersweet, untamable, crawling thing. But you, Atthis, hate the thought of me, and go flying off to Andromeda..."  
"Sappho. Your favorite."  
"Always."  
"It's been a long time." Captain Dylan Hunt blocked the docking bay doorway, staring down at his guest. "I'm not Atthis and I haven't been the other in a long time. And I've never hated you. You're the one constant...Gabrielle."  
"Nothing is ever constant, Dylan, except that which should never have been at all."  
"Big brother is stirring up trouble again, is he?"  
"Let's just say the Cave of Hephaestus is empty, and its former occupant has never been known to quietly mingle in a crowd. Especially since he has a new purpose."  
"Rebirth."  
"Not his."  
"I see."  
"Okay." Pushing between them, Beka Valentine crossed her arms. "You drove my ship, you're exchanging cryptic challenges with my captain, I want to know who the hell you are."  
Hunt tore his attention away from the diminutive blonde before him, eyes moving over to the taller woman. "Beka. Meet Gabrielle. We...uh...go back a ways."  
*  
They ended up in the observation lounge an hour later, exchanging remonstrances and eating a hastily altered formal dinner for three.  
  
Beka Valentine disliked being the odd party out. Especially in a dinner meant for a very private twosome. Still, being the first officer of the Commonwealth flagship had it's duties, and she figured it had its perks as well. Sitting her glass down, she eyed the lovely guest. "That poem you were reading. Sappho."  
  
"Ancient poet." The response was simultaneous.  
  
"I know my history."  
  
"By all means, then, my apologies." Dylan exchanged a glance with the woman, brows lifting in clear message. Valentine sighed.   
  
"It mentioned an abandoned love affair, and what I'm guessing is a metaphorical reference to Andromeda, the star system..."  
  
"Actually." Gabrielle drank again, then stared out the viewport briefly. "In Greek mythology, there were a lot of Andromedas. Sappho could have been referring to a mortal. You have the right perspective though. Rather romantic, a man leaving someone for the stars..." Her gaze lingered on Hunt a fraction longer than necessary.  
  
Okay. Too much, too deep. Beka delved into smoother territory, tones still weighing suspicion. "Did you major in ancient history or something?"  
  
"I've had very little formal education. Time and trade were my teachers. As well as a certain mentor."  
  
"You, Dylan?"  
  
His eyes glinted. "No. I may've mentored the mentor, but I can't claim Gabby as a protege."  
  
"Only a devoted comrade."   
  
*  
  
"You're flirting with her."  
  
"Beka. Don't be silly." The captain of the Andromeda paused in the corridor beside his first officer. "Our guest is simply a very old friend."  
  
"Uh-huh." Valentine stalked her way up an access ladder.  
  
He followed thoughtfully. "But if I were, would that greatly upset you?"  
  
"Only in the sense of duty...Captain." Her heel nudged just a little closer to his forehead. "I mean, Dylan, the alien babes of the week are bad, but tolerable. Usually. Throw in an old friend of yours and our whole universe goes dysfunctional."  
  
"It isn't the friend you have to worry about."  
  
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of. There's something about her, and it rankles. Look, Dylan, she's foreign, and when you're with her, you seem even more so."  
  
"She's GABRIELLE." His voice rose to amused exasperation.  
  
"Well." She cast him a tight smile. "You knew Gabrielle. I don't. I guess I'll just have to take your word that her intentions are pure."  
  
"Well." He imitated the sigh, resting both arms on the ladder half-way up. "We'll find out soon enough, Captain Valentine. I'll be accompanying our guest back down to Daragus. Tyr and Trance could probably use the go-between, and Gabrielle has a few suspicions she wants to point out to me."  
  
"And where do I fit into this, since half my crew and my ship are on Daragus?"  
  
"Oh, take a nap, Beka." He shook his head chidingly. "You *have* been testy lately."  
*  
  
"I'll never get used to this." Settling into the co-pilots seat, Gabrielle watched Andromeda's captain skillfully maneuver the craft through the stars. Daragus was cresting the horizon, but they still had time enough to speak...speak as they hadn't in too many years. "You know, I used to lie there, on the ground at night, and just watch the stars...even then, I didn't believe there was any divinity up here, the gods realm was limited to Earth, as it were...but I found those stars oh, so very amazing...distant specks of light, an entire universe untouched."  
  
"Not exactly." He smiled. "Humanity was a late gate-crasher, and look what we got for it."  
  
"You're not entirely like him. Hercules."  
  
"He wasn't immortal, Gabrielle, or any such...he lived and died, and was reborn, just like other souls. The half of him that was a god was just lucky enough to be retained in all those similar bodies along the way...his memories, his knowledge, carried on."  
  
"Isn't that the best definition of immortality? The ability to live on without sacrificing the humbling of death?"  
  
"Yes, well." He spared her a glance, the lines around his eyes more evident than before. "I can't say its done me a great deal of good."  
  
"You're beginning to feel that this Commonwealth is a losing fight."  
  
"Oh, yes. But its more than just a trophy empire now...its a necessity. The magog..."  
  
"Nasty creatures. They remind me of Ares' creations."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think he has the power to create anything these days, much less control those...beasts. They don't obey anyone. Least of all an impotent Olympian god."  
  
"I get the feeling that's something Xena might have called him once."  
  
Her smile was genuine, reflective. "She called him many things, and I guess I picked some of it up."  
  
He put the craft to coast, leaning back to examine her. "Talk to me, bard. How is it you're still around? Why sacrifice the Elysian Fields with those you loved for this crumbling universe?"  
  
Her smile faded, eyes growing distant. "Isn't the more important question, and the one that takes care of the latter...why?"  
  
"Why, then?"  
  
"Because Ares vowed never to rest until he had Xena back. And because I was once weak enough...lonely enough...to make the same vow, and accept his hand."  
  
"Gabrielle, Warrior Queen of Ares? I never would have imagined." He jerked his head in surprise, lips thinning.  
  
Her laugh was brief, unamused. "I was never very good at it. I liked preventing the wars, you understand. We had a very poor business partnership that translated into an unpleasant personal one. Besides, I was never really the one he wanted. A diversion, the means to an end that still hasn't come to pass. He came to regret his offer...but he did give me immortality. At the time, I was blind enough to believe it a gift. I've since learned better."  
  
"And the vow?"  
  
"Empires fall, and warriors die. Without accepted decay, there would be no room for life...only anger, and pain, and eternal regret. Ares carries that regret. I'm beyond it. Xena is at rest, with her mother, Solon, Eve...she's happy in the Elysian Fields. I won't attempt to bring her to this foreign time and place. And I won't allow Ares to do it either."  
  
"So that's why you're here." He shook his head ruefully, face clouding over. "To wage yet another battle with him. The siege never ends, does it, old friend?"  
  
* 


	4. four

"Here." Crouching awkwardly on a high-reaching tree limb, Tyr Anasazi passed the tool pouch down to his companion. "And make it swift. This planet is dangerous enough without unnecessary primate trickery."  
  
"I'll just put this..." Trance held up a small camera device. "...here. And the voice receiver right below it, both should be invisible in the leaves, they really are pretty in hue..."  
  
"Still. Now." Bending to clap a hand over her mouth, he tensed, ears picking up the distant footsteps. "It would seem that your friends are returning. Listen, or leave?"  
  
"Well..." She fought against his hand, curling downward for a glance. "That might be a difficult choice. If we leave, we lose the information, but if we stay, well, there are two possibilities, that we might not be caught, or that we might be caught..."  
  
"Well choose, and swiftly."   
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"You, not certain of an outcome?"  
  
"Shh..." She hissed, flattening against the limb as the travelers came within view.  
  
"Very well, we stay." Stilling, he listened carefully. Quietly, and then with more animation, the voices rose.  
  
"I left it here."  
  
"Your queen clearly hasn't returned. That leads me to suspect that she has no intention of doing so."  
  
"Oh, she'll return. Always does." The first voice darkened to amused annoyance.  
"And I have no doubt her company will be familiar."  
  
*  
  
"It isn't a personal battle." Watching as her companion prepared for landing, Gabrielle clenched hands on her knees. "I've long since stopped feeling anything for Ares beyond pity. This isn't personal. He has a foot in the Nietzschean system...their warrior icon, so to speak. Your Tyr might recognize his relevance. He pretends to be their patron."  
  
"But?"  
  
"Any hope of retrieving Xena lies on Earth. Earth, unfortunately, lies in Nietzschean hands. He will ultimately try to destroy them."  
  
"To free Earth, and that's a bad thing?"  
  
"It isn't the only thing. Herc...Dylan...you know the Nietzscheans. You live with one. They don't like being duped. Eventually, they'll find that Ares isn't a god...or at least but a pale shadow of one. He's worthless to them in the end. They don't like being duped by inferiors, and they will counterstrike. I don't pretend to know how, or where, or when...but they will strike, en masse, and the only thing more dangerous than Nietzscheans squabbling amongst themselves is Nietzscheans fighting together."  
  
He considered, before finally reaching for the communications button. "Tyr, Trance, you've just had a change of plans."   
  
*  
  
"Tyr, Trance, you've just had a change of plans."  
  
The message cut into the silence with alacrity, and the recipients froze just as quickly. The conversation below stopped swiftly.  
  
"Oh, NO." Uttered Trance faintly, tail swinging aside to grasp the transceiver and shake it off forcefully.  
  
"Too late." The Nietzschean muttered, extending an arm to grasp her waist and plunging them both down through the foliage until they hit the ground with faint jars.   
  
"The camera and..." Trance turned to go back.  
  
"Forget them. We've already been discovered."  
  
"Yes, you have. And no, I didn't dismiss you."   
  
Blinking at the sudden burst of light, both stared at the man striding towards them. Trance tapped on her companions foot urgently. "Tyr, he was just *back there*."  
  
"I am perfectly well aware of that." The other swallowed his own discomfited surprise, pushing her back and moving ahead, voice raised. "Who are you?"  
  
"The name is Ares. You and your perky little fiend were spying on me. Oh, and I do mean *fiend*. Reminds me of my queen. A real..."  
  
"We are vastly more interested in who you are and what you are than the details of your questionable love life."  
  
"Well, that is an entire mythos in itself." The man shrugged.   
  
"Ares." Nearby shrubbery gave way, and a familiar voice drifted in.   
  
"Gabrielle!" Gemini clapped her hands together, nervous excitement riddling her tones. "Okay, he can pop in and out of existence..."  
  
"From one place to another." The darkly clad man corrected.  
  
"Either way, it is a questionable talent. Who are you both?"  
  
"That's a long story." Gabrielle reached their side, muscles tense, shoulders squared.   
  
"And one that I don't have time to waste on with your mortals." Ares raised his hands, smile faintly derisive. "Sorry, queenie, but I have no time to waste."  
  
"Ares, don't do it." Gabrielle's tones were soft, pleading, but laced with steel.  
  
"Do what? What..." Trance demanded as her companion grasped her arm and prepared to wheel away.  
  
Anasazi growled low in his throat, thrusting her forward. "I do not believe he is open-palmed in friendship..."  
  
"Oh, no." She uttered again, loudly, as a ball of flame encircled a sapling only inches away.  
  
"By the gods, RUN!"  
  
"You *always* have to interrupt...!" Swallowing his frustration and shaking her grip off, Ares wheeled on his long-ago partner as the prey raced away, crashing through the flora. Stiffening, he locked gazes with the approaching Commonwealth captain. "And HIM. Can't I shake him off in any reincarnation?"  
  
Hunt smiled humorlessly. "You were about to char my friends. Ares, this has lasted long enough."  
  
"If you hadn't shown back up at such an inopportune moment, your friends could have provided dinner and entertainment. I suppose you'll have to suffice."  
  
The woman sighed, crossing her arms. "He had no idea you were here. By the gods...you have to place yourself at the crux of every single event..."  
  
"I am a GOD!"  
  
"You're an idiot!" Backing away, Gabrielle pressed a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes.   
  
"I believe that title fell to junior, didn't it?" With a final glare, he vanished.  
  
She sighed, turning back to her companion. "Problem unsolved."  
  
*  
"Gemini!" Hissing, Tyr Anasazi gripped his crewmates arm, pulling her behind the rock face they had stumbled upon after brief moments of running.   
  
"Oh!" She sank onto a nearby rock, and he eased to sit before her. "Tyr, why didn't we stay and fight? what about Dylan?"  
  
"Dylan is no doubt capable of dealing with his redoubtable friends with no assistance from the less suicidal. And that, Gemini, answers your earlier question. Nietzscheans are not suicidal. Nor could I allow the harm of one in my care."  
  
Her smile burgeoned, warm fingers gripping his arms, moving up and down them almost charmingly. "You DO care!"  
  
His hand brushed her face, grip firm but carefully unbruising, dark eyes somewhat puzzled, somewhat brooding. "There are times when I believe you only a child...your behavioral patterns, your overabundant thirst for life. Then, there are times when I question even that assumption. There are races, people, who seem to...reverse the process, growing younger as the years pass, back-stepping through the biological process, often combining the traits of both elder and younger. What you are..."  
  
"Tyr." She caught his large fist in both her pale lavender ones, eyes determined and absurdly concentrated, lips curving. "What I am...is me. Just me, Trance. Its not all that important, really, not now. I promise I won't turn into a cute little baby in your arms..."  
  
"You are not a child." He shifted position, taking her weight onto him and off the precarious stone ledge.  
  
"Not exactly..."  
  
"You are not a child." He elucidated by nodding downward, where his hands had found a pleasant, if unconventional resting place on her...quite shapely...hips.  
  
"Oh." The syllable was short, sincerely embarrassed, as a blush...rather purple, actually...stole up her face. "*Oh*."  
  
"Trance..." Running fingers across his face in resigned frustration, the Nietzschean frowned at his companion, finally lifting her to firm ground. "Return to the village. Go...NOW!"  
  
Faint laughter from above startled them both. Ares peered down, shaking his head. "Really, I admire your efforts. You Nietzscheans and...purple sparkly things...can run. Oh, I don't suppose killing you now would be any fun at all. You might, however, be interested in killing one another before you reach the village. You see, this area of Daragus will soon discover a very harsh winter season. Bad roads, hypothermia, all those good things. Enjoy the journey."  
  
"Can he do that?" Trance glanced up, lips parted.  
  
"I'm not certain. However..." Anasazi swallowed the rest of his theory as a gust of icy wind sifted in. "It appears so."  
  
"Oh, no."   
  
"Will you never find a new expression for your displeasure?!" The Nietzschean all but roared, then quieted, pushing her down the slope before him. "Later. We find shelter first. No doubt his magic will wear away soon enough, or your eternal captain will intercede."   
  
* 


	5. five

Cold. Tyr Anasazi hated it. Hated it almost as fiercely as being left adrift in an unnatural winter storm with the most contradictory, annoying, enTRANCING creature he had ever had the misfortune to fall into league with. Growling softly, he fought once more with the raw game he had caught hours earlier, attempting to prepare it for suitable dining. Gemini was picky about her meats. Not too raw, not entirely done.  
  
"Tyr." Moving toward him gingerly, Trance tugged the fur closer about her bare shoulders, toes tapping a rhythmatic pattern on the stone floor. "You don't have to worry about the meat, I'll be fine, really, but the fire is out, and I'm...c.cold."  
  
"You know how to light a fire." Lying back and brushing an arm back over his face, the Nietzschean focused his gaze on an opposite wall, after a first tantalizing glimpse of torso flesh.  
  
"Could I just lay with you?" Not waiting for an answer, she scrambled down into his pallet, nestling close to his side, flesh chilled.  
  
Just lay with...he groaned, rearranging the coverlet to sufficiently cover them both. "Gemini, you'll be my death, and dishonorably." Then, hand accidentally brushing downward, he jerked away, sitting up. "By the gods, girl, where are your undergarments?"  
  
"Well, they were ripped, sort of, one of the settlers, when we stopped earlier and I was looking for tinder. I think this Ares has made more than us miserable. The locals don't like winter weather either. They were cold. My garments looked warm..."  
  
"One of the Dragoons attacked you?" Grasping her face in his palm, he sought out her eyes. "So this is why you refuse to sleep alone. Did they injure you at all? Any intrusion?"  
  
"Oh, no, no." Eyes sparkling with mingled embarrassment and, what, tears?, she shook her head vehemently. "And you can't confront them, Tyr, we need the treaty and you know they aren't all bad, just confused, and they'll get better, and besides, we *did* create the mess..."  
  
"Keep your face calm when among them, Trance, for if I sense so much as a ripple of recognition of the attacker, he'll be dead enough to shred diplomacy for good."  
  
"I was afraid you'd say something like that." Curling up, she pulled away.   
  
"Gemini." Softly, firmly, his voice drew her back into the circle of his arms. "Do not be absurd. We require the body heat. I believe we can put aside our greater disagreements for a brief period of time."  
  
She scrubbed at her eyes, sniffing. "You mean I'm not sub-par for a Nietzschean comfort woman?"  
  
He roared with laughter, clenching her hand to his stomach. "Ahead of the game, are you? I merely meant body warmth. The other is entirely of your choice. But I assure you, disturbing as the offspring might be, you are far from sub-par on any level as a Nietzschean's mate. But not today. You are still a child, and I am not wholly certain we are compatible. Nietzschean restraints against substandard reproduction....but someday, perhaps, we might explore the question in more detail."  
  
She smiled, hair tumbling down to tickle his shoulder. "I like that. But...just body warmth, for now?"  
  
"For now." He agreed, drawing her in easily and pulling the fur up to envelop them both.  
  
*  
"Well, well." Dylan Hunt shone his flashlight into the cave. "I didn't know you liked sleepovers, Tyr."  
  
"Do not be absurd." The Nietzschean shouldered past his superior officer, tugging on his vest along the way. "Gemini has a markedly low threshold for cold. I was sparing myself her harping."  
  
"Uh-huh." The captain turned back to peer into the cave. "Trance? Are you awake?"  
  
"I don't think I ever went to sleep." Smiling sheepishly, the alien stepped out into the sunlight, fur still wrapped over her shoulders. Her eyes widened with pleasure. "Oh, winter's gone."  
  
"I think he moved on to greater projects." Gabrielle sheathed her daggers, shaking her head.   
  
"Oh?" Anasazi stepped back into the group, tones edgily querying.  
  
The noncrewmember sighed. "In long forgotten Earth legend, there was a demigod, born of Ares, a war god, and his consort after the twilight of the pantheonic gods. This demigod was born with his mother's goodness and...mortal weaknesses, or so it seemed to his father, and eventually came to loath her lineage. You see, the war god, he never quite came to trust her. Eventually, the offspring picked up on this...he attempted to kill her, and against his fathers desire was cast among the humans, to live and die as a full mortal. Only vague traces of his godlike lineage remained, and those traces were continued on his children, and so on. The consort was stripped of all power but that of immortality. Eventually, technology caught up with the gods, at least their diluted bloodline, and those traces became the key to mans betterment."  
  
"The original genetically-engineered humans, eventually becoming Nietzschean origins." Trance whispered softly, eyes widening.  
  
"Yes." The outsider nodded fractionally.  
  
"It is only a legend." Tyr moved forward, hand on his compression rifle.  
  
"Yes, only a legend." Gabrielle met his gaze squarely. "But consider this: The Daraguns are already cast out from their prides. They have no pride, no sense of self. If one man, one god, should come to them, calling them his children, it is entirely feasible..."  
  
"That they would do anything at all to please their self-proclaimed divine ancestor." The captain finally spoke, voice quiet, thoughtful.  
  
"Yes. Anything." His old friend placed a hand over his own. "Including attempting to pillage the secrets of the new Commonwealth."  
  
"Well, Gabrielle, consort to the Olympian war god and patron goddess of the Amazoni, I suggest that you, in your infinite wisdom, lead this battle." Anasazi spread his hands, tones mocking.  
  
"We're moving out." Hunt only said tersely, and Trance let ahead to his side. Gabrielle paused, waiting for the outburst that seemed imminent from the resident Leapt.   
  
He only smiled, observing her curiously, head angling. "Once, before, all Nietzscheans had goddesses."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"We killed them."  
  
She cracked a smile. "I've always sensed a bit of maternal deprivation among your kind, Tyr."  
  
"And you, the supposed begetter of a murderous demigod, seek to replace the lack?" His smile hardened as he moved ahead, tones drifting back. "Oh, no, Queen, we need not your undivine intervention."  
  
"Tyr." He halted at the quiet hailing, and waited. The outsider contained smoothly, with warning. "Do not harm Trance Gemini."  
  
"You haven't the power to punish the harm." He faced her, unwilling to give in.  
  
"No, I don't, not anymore." Her laugh was short, wry. "But are you so certain that she doesn't?"  
  
*  
"He's in there." Gabrielle motioned towards a shabby, but sturdy barrack in the center of the village. "I'll go in alone."  
  
"Is that wise?"  
  
"Dylan, I can handle him. I always have. You take care of your crew." Touching his face gently, the blonde moved off, slipping into the barrack easily.  
  
Smoky, incendiary darkness. His mark. Allowing the door to swing shut after her, Gabrielle faced her target. "Ares."  
  
"Oh, you again?" Turning from the licking flames in the fireplace, the Olympian god of war glared at her. "I just *can't* shake you, can I? A century passed here, a millennia gone there, and wham." His fingers snapped. "There you are again, nagging and carping."  
  
"Someone has to clean up your messes." Moving forward, the warrior bard allowed a crooked smile. "Ares." Her hands rose up his chest, fingers trailing underneath the leather vest. "It's been a long time."  
  
"Uh-uh." He stepped back, grasping her wrists. "Oh, no. I recognize this ploy. It won't work. Sex is nothing but a device for reproduction, and I think we failed pretty miserably with that the first time around. Hey, we founded this disgusting race of super-turbo human egoists..."  
  
"Such a fatherly thing to say."  
  
"And I know you don't want to repeat that little experience...you do seem to have bad luck with offspring, don't you, bard?...so this must be another of those nefarious plots you took from Xena. Distraction, huh? Won't work. I'm..."  
  
"Ares." Meeting his gaze with a serene smile, she quickly freed her hands, reaching to her sides and driving both daggers into his sides. "Rejection stings."  
  
"Oh!" The door slammed open as his shout echoed, and Trance Gemini scurried up, peering down at the unconscious body with shock. "You killed him!"  
  
"No, not likely." Retrieving her weapons, the bard bent to feel for a pulse. "Killing a god is a bit more difficult than that. The blades were edged with a very rare poison, one of the few that works on our sort. I just put him under for a few hours. Captain." She straightened, meeting her old friends gaze. "It appears your worries are over, at least on one level. I'll take him back to the Cave of Hephaestus...the Nietzscheans on Earth won't suspect anything, he made a great many appearances to them. Besides, they don't like interfering with my plans." A harsh smile edged her lips. "I'm the pariah of the Nietszchean pantheon. Hated Mother, and all that. As long as Mr. Anasazi agrees to keep his silence, we should be settled."  
  
"I have no intention of betraying you...not, at least, on his behalf. He is not a suitable god for a cow, much less the Nietzschean race...in any form. These Daragun inferiors included." Tyr stared down, distaste written across his face.  
  
"Well." Trance broke in, tail tapping a rhythm. "Now we just have to complete the Commonwealth treaty. Of course, that frozen village might make things a tiny bit more difficult, and..."  
  
Her companions groaned.  
  
*  
"You look tired." Beka Valentine surveyed her captain, lifting her glass and staring across the intimately decorated table set up in his quarters. "Your friends are dynamic folk."  
  
"That's one word." He chuckled shortly, rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Look, we can try this...again...another night. You look exhausted, and probably have a lot to think about. It sounded pretty weird, even being told by Trance. Speaking of which, I should go check on she and Tyr..." She stood, sweeping the dinner napkin away.  
  
"Uh-uh." He caught her arm, gently swiveling her back into her seat. "Sit, and be served, Valentine. Besides...Tyr and Trance are probably otherwise occupied. They probably had a *lot* to talk about."  
  
"Talk." She grinned, touching his hand across the table, brows waggling. "Is that all anybody does on this High Guard ship, Hunt?"  
  
"Well." He stood, drawing her up for a dance, fingers combing down her bare back. "High Guard principles were created for maximum efficiency...pleasure...in the ranks."  
  
"Really?" She considered, letting her arms rest on his neck. "Hmm. Fortunate for us. But your friend, Gabrielle...having to put up with a dolt like Ares, I suppose you can't blame her for flirting."  
  
"It wasn't flirting."  
  
"Hmm. My feminine insight begs to differ."  
  
She felt him grin against her hair. "Gabrielle's a nice...girl. She's good for him, in the worst of ways."  
  
"Reminds me of Trance."  
  
"We'll have to ask Tyr about that someday."  
  
"And I have to ask you about someone." She pulled back, brow cocked. "'Hercules'. I know the mythology. He was Ares' brother, right? Trance said you might know a little bit about him..."  
  
Fin 


End file.
